


Dusk till Dawn

by Hannaadi88, HunkyDory (DullahanShadow)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Blood Drinking, Bottom Lance (Voltron), Canon-Typical Violence, Demon Lotor (Voltron), Fae Lance (Voltron), M/M, Vampire Keith (Voltron), ambiguous consent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:07:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26258401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hannaadi88/pseuds/Hannaadi88, https://archiveofourown.org/users/DullahanShadow/pseuds/HunkyDory
Summary: It could be said that Lance is an ambitious fae. After all, one does not climb the ranks in Queen Allura's court without backbone and charm. And Lance, for all his faults, is a rather charming fae indeed.Granted, he might not have been so quick to climb said ranks if he'd known that his service would lead to a courtship with the Daemon Prince. But Lotor's just as charming as Lance, perhaps even more so, and Lance can't help but be swayed by the prince's kind words and good looks.Now that Lance has been given the opportunity to climb higher than he'd ever imagined, he won't let anyone come between him and his destiny- not even a roguishly handsome and pesky vampire, who refuses to leave him alone.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron), Lance/Lotor (Voltron)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 96





	Dusk till Dawn

There’s something about dusk that truly appeals to Lance, and it’s more than just how the auburn sun glows against his copper skin. It’s a feeling. It’s the last traces of safety disappearing as the sun slips lower in the sky. Not that Lance isn’t afraid of anything. Only a fool is afraid of nothing.

And yet, Lance likes to live a bit on the edge- especially with how his queen has been acting these past few months, ever since they began negotiations with the daemons. 

What Lance needs is a reprieve; something to distract him from endless diplomacy. A plaything, perhaps?

His ears catch the sound of heavy breath and the snapping of sticks.

It appears that lady luck is on his side as a young man stumbles into his path, falling to his knees and breathing hard as sweat trickles down his forehead. Lance curiously notes the sweat gluing the human’s thick hair to his forehead. 

He crouches down and tucks his finger under the man's chin.

"Are you lost, little human?" Lance asks, even though the man would tower over him in height had he been standing. He recognizes the terror in the human’s wide eyes.

What can Lance say? He's a sympathetic fae. No one likes being food in forests like these. 

"What's your name?" He asks when the human doesn’t respond. It's the quickest way to seal a deal.

He arches a brow when he continues to receive only heavy pants as a response. Humans and their insufficient bodies. They really should know better than to wander the woods when they’re so ill-equipped to protect themselves.

"I can keep you safe, human, but only if I get your name."

"U-uh," the man looks worriedly over his shoulder, his heart pounding loud enough for Lance to hear its thundering in his ears.

Lance purses his lips, his nails digging ever so slightly into the human’s flesh as his impatience grows. The sun has nearly set, and Lance knows Allura will be expecting him soon back at the palace.

"Tsuyoshi,” the human finally whispers, and Lance cups his cheeks with a smile.

"Rest now, Tsuyoshi,” he decrees and Tsuyoshi's eyes immediately close. 

As Tsuyoshi crumbles against Lance, and Lance guides the human to rest against his side. Lance sees a shadow of movement out of the corner of his eye. Dear Tsuyoshi’s pursuer, no doubt.

"He's mine, now," Lance says into the darkness.

He hears hissing and sees the creature’s hand outstretched, ready to steal what is his. As soon as the hand appears, however, it pulls back, away from the patch of sun keeping the creature at bay. 

Lance knows better than to assume safety. The sun is quick to set, and with it, the last protection he can count on.

The creature emerges from the dark and approaches the pair. Lance sees red flickering in his eyes with apparent anger. He glances down at Tsuyoshi and sees a faint tint of blood on the human's knee.

"You had no right," the creature says roughly, eyes also drawn to the crimson trickle flowing from Tsuyoshi's wound. "He's my prey."

Lance turns his gaze back to Tsuyoshi's hunter, a slight smirk creasing his lips.

A vampire. How unsurprising. With the speed in which his dear plaything had been running, he would've expected a were. But a vampire, even at dusk, isn't too odd of a sight. 

"He's mine, now,” Lance repeats, batting his lashes and supporting Tsuyoshi’s head on his side. He runs his fingers through the human's dark hair. 

"And I have every right to him," he continues, tilting his head. "I got to him first. Clearly your hunting skills aren’t up to snuff if you couldn't even catch him,” Lance taunts, amused.

"So,” he drawls and lifts a hand, flicking his wrist at the vampire, "shoo."

Lance looks down at Tsuyoshi and calls his name, watching with delight as the human’s eyes immediately open.

“Come, it's time to go home,” Lance hums and turns his back to the vampire as Tsuyoshi stands. Looking back, Lance knows he’d been foolish to trust a vampire to honor the forest’s hunting code.

Lance can hear the whistle of wind in his ears from the vampire’s speed as he rushes at him from behind. He grunts as he’s pushed up against a tree with the weight of the vampire against his back, holding him in place. Lance inhales sharply as the vampire presses his lips to his ear. 

"The sunlight might have helped you rob me of my prey," the vampire murmurs, "but there's none left to save you from paying for it."

Lance knows Allura would have his head for lowering his guard against vampire scum. He opens his mouth to order Tsuyoshi to attack the insolent creature, when he feels the vampire nose along his neck.

The vampire makes a low sound of appreciation, causing Lance to bite his tongue and curl his lips curl in a disgusted frown.

"Maybe it's good that you got to him first," the vampire muses absently as he tightens his hold. "I've always wondered what fae taste like."

A shiver runs through Lance like a shard of ice. He has a split second to decide if he should play along with the misguided vampire, or order Tsuyoshi to attack him after all. While Lance knows that he is in the right, he also is fully aware of the fact that very few can get between a vampire and its bloodlust. His human won’t survive the night if the vampire sees him as an obstacle between him and Lance’s blood.

So Lance decides to play nice, just this once. He’ll play, and his human will live to see another day.

Cautiously, he slips his hand behind the vampire and splays his fingers across his back.

“Oh, sweetie, you couldn't handle my blood. You can't even catch a human,” he purrs and twists his head to look deviously at the vampire. As he does, Lance feels the press of the vampire’s teeth, sharp and close, inadvertently pricking drops of blood that seep down his neck.

The vampire’s breath hitches, pressing his palm against Lance’s neck and smears the blood. Lance squints in the dimming light and sees the vampire’s eyes dilate as he inhales Lance’s scent.

A low growl is the only warning the vampire gives before his free hand snakes around Lance’s head and grasps his chin, roughly tilting it to expose his throat. The hand on Lance’s neck moves to grab his shoulder and keep him in place as the vampire leans down and sinks his fangs into soft flesh.

Lance had once read that there was a procedure to feeding, one meant to ease the process and keep the prey docile. But this vampire was not following the textbook. He hadn’t cleaned Lance’s skin with his tongue, hadn’t drawn his blood to the surface to make for an easier bite. He hadn’t let his saliva seep into Lance’s neck to keep him calm. No. He hadn’t followed any of that. 

Lance had learned a lot about the vampire feeding process during his lessons with Coran. But nothing could prepare him for the experience itself. Pain burns through his body and he keens, squirming against the vampire's solid muscles keeping him pinned in place.

He attempts to pull a glamour over them, to confuse the vampire, and allow him to escape, but the shimmering magic fades as soon as it leaves Lance’s fingers. The pain eventually melts Lance into weak compliance as he leans against Keith, eyes fluttering shut. Once he stops resisting, his skin starts to tingle as the vampire’s venom finally takes effect.

The vampire tightens his hold and Lance feels more than hears the moan uttered against his neck. The vampire’s sucks are harsh. Eager. Unrelenting. 

Lance knows he shouldn't be scared, that the vampire won’t suck him dry, but as his heart pounds as hard as his poor human's had, Lance feels... Afraid. A soft whimper escapes his throat as the hand on the vampire’s back finally drops to his side in utter compliance.

The vampire’s grip on Lance relaxes, and he appears to reward his submission by pulling back and taking a short break. They both know that Lance doesn’t have the wherewithal to escape. Their eyes meet, and Lance’s mind fills with fog. He finds that the only thing he can focus on his is breathing. He swallows thickly as the vampire’s tongue chases a trail of blood that trickles down his neck from the puncture wounds, and soothes them with his tongue.

As soon as the vampire's teeth leave his throat, the lull of docility starts to fade. Not all at once, but quicker than a normal human, Lance supposes. He is still weak in the bloodsucker’s grip, but the slip of the vampire’s hand against Lance's waist fuels Lance's indignation.

The vampire presses his lips to the delicate skin under Lance’s ear and gives a breathy chuckle. 

"Your blood is amazing," he praises. "I've never had anything like it."

Lance blinks at the compliment, his head still swimming from blood loss and the inexplicable desire to have the vampire to latch onto him again. Feeling returns to his hands and he attempts to form another glamour, but when that fails, he grabs the vampire's wrist and yanks his hand away. 

"And you never will again,” Lance’s states, speech slurred by his heavy tongue as he stumbles away from the tree, away from the creature. He knows very well that this vampire could continue to disregard the forest laws and take him, and that mouthing off to him wasn’t the smartest thing to do in his vulnerable state. But Lance’s pride simply won’t allow him to submit further to such a bottom feeder.

"Your hunger has been satiated, go back to your kind," Lance says acidly. He wobbles on his feet, but he is proud to be standing.

Despite the force the vampire must possess, he stumbles and falls as he steps forward to grab Lance. He groans as his knees hit the dirt and looks up at Lance.

"What- what did you do to me?" He grits out, digging his nails into the dirt as if in an attempt to stabilize himself. Lance blinks at the vampire’s sickly pallor. He should be flushed with blood so soon after feeding.

Lance is still woozy as his hand goes to his neck, touching the deep puncture wounds. He winces as his fingers brush against the holes and he bites his lower lip. He looks down as the vampire writhes and retches on the ground and feels grim satisfaction at his pain. 

"I wouldn't know," he croaks, leaning against a stoic Tsuyoshi. He really needed to get his poor human home, he was filthy. "Never had a vampire steal my blood before. I hope you suffer,” he adds, fire glowing in his eyes.

He wobbles, then stumbles, towards the vampire. He lifts his foot and pushes him down further into the ground.

"If you ever touch me again, you'll regret it,” Lance swears even as his vision begins to fade. 

"Tsuyoshi," he calls the human’s name, snapping him out of his stupor, “carry me." Tsuyoshi obeys his command and sweeps Lance into his arms, carrying him away from the vampire and towards the palace. Lance does his best to guide him, but his focus fades in and out.

The last thing Lance remembers is a dull ache and a pull, urging him to return to the vampire.

~♢~

Lance wakes up on soft bedding and familiar silk sheets. How had he gotten home?

He stretches and slowly opens his eyes, letting out a squeak when he sees Queen Allura peering down at him with a cross frown. Lance immediately props himself up on his elbows and flushes

“A-ah, Queen Allura, to what do I owe the pleasure-?" He begins but loses his nerve as Allura continues to stare daggers at him. 

"What have I said about your little excursions?" She asks shortly.

Lance ducks his head with a sheepish grin.

"So your memory is intact,” Allura dryly notes and shakes her head. “You know how close we are to finalizing our agreement with the daemons, and yet you carelessly wander off and make yourself vulnerable to those who seek to hinder our agreement. You would risk the kingdom for the sake of… Finding a human?" 

She reaches out and grips Lance’s chin, turning his head to expose the wound on his neck.

“And this," contempt sparks in Allura’s eyes, “you allowed something as lowly as a vampire to touch you?"

Despite the rage in her tone, Lance detects genuine concern. It makes him feel even worse.

Shame courses through Lance and he pulls his knees to his chest. Ever since Coran had taken him under his wing and introduced him to Queen Allura, all he’d wanted was to impress her. To be a worthy advisor once he finished his training.

He wants to make his Queen happy.

"I'm sorry, my Queen, I was helping a human escape a terrible fate,” Lance scans the room and sees Tsuyoshi, with clear eyes and a scared expression, in the corner of the room. 

"He was just too cute to let a vampire get to him,” Lance continues to explain and flashes Tsuyoshi a reassuring smile. "And I-" he starts, then thinks better of it. "It won't happen again,” Lance promises, and that seems to satisfy the Fae Queen as she pulls away from his bedside and leaves the room. 

Not before notifying Lance that they will be conferring with the daemons in a few short hours, however, and that his presence is required.

As it turns out, a few hours isn’t enough time to recover from a vampire bite.

Lance’s neck is sore and he still feels woozy as the carriage bumps over every tree root and stone on their way to daemon territory. He tries to hide his ill health behind glamour and clean clothes, but his appearance does nothing to ease his pain. The cost of his adventure and new plaything, Lance supposes.

The carriage comes to a stop and Lance braces his palm against the door as his vision blurs. He quickly retracts his hand as the door opens and the warm early afternoon sun streams inside the carriage, momentarily blinding him.

Lance climbs out of the carriage after Coran and not for the first time since they’d left the palace, he wishes his new human was with him. He’s grown rather fond of Tsuyoshi in their short time together, and after the human had so dutifully carried him back to safety, all that currently interests Lance is pampering his plaything and teaching him about his new life.

Unfortunately, duty called, and Tsuyoshi had been left behind. There was no human to carry him now.

Lance feels a pair of eyes on him and turns to catch sight of the daemon prince eyeing him at the daemon palace entrance. Lance bites his lip and looks away.

This isn’t Lance’s first time meeting the prince, and he still doesn’t know what to make of him. He is probably the most charming person Lance has ever met, handsome and as suave as they come.

And yet, there was something about Prince Lotor that sent a chill down Lance’s spine.

He watches as Lotor steps away from his guards and performs an artful bow as Allura steps out of the carriage. 

"Your Majesty," Lotor greets the queen and extends his hand to help her climb down. "Welcome."

They exchange pleasantries for a minute before Queen Allura takes Lotor’s arm and allows him to guide her up the stairs. Lance dutifully waits for the pair to pass before following them, but not before he catches Lotor’s eyes on him again, this time accompanied by a soft smile that was unquestionably directed at him.

Lance shouldn’t be bothering himself with the curve of Lotor’s lips, or with the glint in his eyes. No. Other than this alliance, he has no interest in daemons. As beautiful and powerful as they seem, they are just as dangerous and parasitic as the other creatures Lance can easily think of.

After walking down an increasingly familiar ornate hall, Lotor leads the diplomatic party to a room with a long table and motions for each guest to take a seat. Lance glances at Allura before sliding into the chair to Coran’s left. 

“Shall we begin?” Allura clears her throat and quirks a brow at Lotor from across the table. “What addendum did you wish to discuss? I would very much like to finish these proceedings.”

Lotor chuckles at the queen's no-nonsense manner, which Lance can’t help but admire about Allura. She is a force to be reckoned with, and Lance suspects that Lotor is well aware.

From Lance’s limited experience, daemons tend to dance around the heart of the matter as long as it takes to make sure that they receive the response they seek. They allow themselves the leisure of leading their partner until they can catch them on their word. 

There will be no fooling Allura, though. 

"Always straight to the point, Your Majesty. I like that about you," Lotor says with a smile and leans back in his seat to survey the rest of the delegation. His eyes momentarily linger on Lance.

Lance ignores the small furrow of concern that seems to cross Lotor’s expression and waits until the prince turns back to Allura before allowing himself to look at the prince again. 

"I've approached my father with the terms we discussed in our last meeting, but as I predicted, he was less than pleased with your demand of exclusivity over the southern trade route," Lotor says with a frown. 

"We've worked hard and negotiated for months now, and I wish as much as you do to sign as soon as possible. But," he hesitates, "my father isn't easy to convince. Pushing this might do me more harm than I initially anticipated."

It was common knowledge that there was no love lost between Lotor and his father. 

"However," Lotor looks over at Lance again, and Lance stiffens as another shiver runs through him. If he weren't so exhausted and queasy, he’d snap at Lotor, but Lance bites his tongue.

His head pounds. Stupid rocky carriage ride. They really should demand the daemons smoothen the road to their territory.

"I might be convinced to risk my neck if properly compensated,” Lotor says, and Lance blinks, momentarily distracted from his pain and discomfort.

Allura narrows her eyes.

“And just what kind of compensation would this be?” She inquires. “And should I provide said compensation,” she continues, her gaze flicking between Lotor and Lance, “how do I guarantee the sanctity of our deal? I have no intention of giving away something of mine without protection. I would like to finish these arrangements with your father sooner than later.”

“Your Majesty?” Lance starts, but Allura lifts a hand for his silence. Unsettled, Lance shifts in his seat. 

"As do I," Lotor says swiftly. "I am willing to give you my word that I shall do my utmost to convince my father to give his assent to the full terms of our agreement. And as you probably know," Lotor raises a brow, "a daemon's word is binding like none other. Besides, I wouldn't dream of crossing the Fae Queen."

Lance fidgets. He wants to interject, but he doesn’t have the first idea of what to say. He presses his lips together as pangs of pain tweak at his neck. He doesn’t trust himself to touch it, however, for fear of disturbing his glamour. 

Lotor hesitates for a moment before clearing his throat and turning in his seat to gaze openly at Lance. 

"I should like to be granted a courting period with your advisor's assistant," Lotor says, offering Lance a warm smile.

Lance’s jaw drops. His glamour briefly fades before quickly returning as he pushes his chair back. The screeching sound of the chair sends another shock through his body. 

“Wh-what?” He croaks, looking wildly at Allura.

“If you can do more than just promise to uphold your end, I will consider allowing this courtship,” she replies to Lotor before waving her hand at Lance. “Sit down.”

Lance struggles against the urge to obey before returning to his seat and staring at Lotor with open horror. He’d sensed Lotor’s interest, of course, but he never could’ve expected it to come into play with the agreement. 

“Get me Zarkon’s signed approval, and there will be no issue with your compensation,” Allura says sweetly. 

"With all due respect, I'm afraid that I cannot trust a mere promise to 'consider' my request, either, Your Majesty," Lotor says slowly. "Might I suggest we meet each other halfway?" He offers quickly before Allura can take offense. 

"Grant me an hour alone with Lance before you leave tonight, and I shall go to my father first thing tomorrow. Is that acceptable to you?"

Lance is not a fan of this compromise- not in the least. He barely has the energy to keep his glamour up, let alone entertain Prince Lotor. He feels so vulnerable, being bartered over like some _human_. 

He feels hurt that Allura is even considering this, even though he knows that her reasons are just. This agreement, this alliance, will greatly benefit all Fae. Lance supposes that he is merely a calculated risk. 

Allura purses her lips and glances at Lance, worry fleetingly gracing her featured before disappearing and nodding her assent.

"Sixty minutes, and not a second more. Lance, come to the carriage when the hour is up," she orders him and places a gentle kiss to his brow before taking her leave along with Coran and the rest of the delegation.

Lance sits uncomfortably in his chair and silently stares across at Lotor, unsure what to do. What is expected of him? Is he meant to seduce the prince, or convince him that he’s not worth the daemon’s time?

Lotor stands up and walks over to a door that appears behind him. He pulls it open and gestures for Lance to follow. Once Lance does so, Lotor closes the door and walks over to the large couch in the middle of the antechamber.

"Come," he prompts softly, “sit. You look like you can use a drink. What can I offer you?"

Lance watches Lotor's every move and is surprised by the softness in Lotor's voice. He had only been accustomed to the cleverness of the prince’s deals and the notorious ferocity of his fights.

He walks over to the couch and sits down. If Lotor wants to do something to him, this would be the perfect time. Lance had very little in ways of protection, and Allura is nowhere in sight. 

He bites at his lip briefly before nodding.

“Strongest drink you have,” he replies. He needs to wash down the ache in his body with something only a daemon could fix up. He watches as Lotor mixes his drink and absently rubs his neck.

"Here you go," Lotor says as he hands Lance the tall glass, taking the liberty to sit down on the opposite end of the couch and bring his own drink to his lips for a quick sip. He sighs and sits back, watching Lance with open curiosity.

Lance takes a small sip from his glass and relishes the soothing burn. He’d needed a drink more than he’s willing to admit. 

Despite his preoccupation with his drink, Lance doesn’t miss the prince’s raised brow.

"You should take it easy in your state," he murmurs. "And there’s no need to keep up that glamour of yours- it's obviously draining you. You keep rubbing at your neck," Lotor remarks. "Does it hurt?"

Lance’s eyes widen and he downs the rest of his drink in one gulp. 

“Prince,” he tries to begin respectfully, but his nerves are rather frayed, “that is a rather presumptuous thing to ask of me.”

He desperately needs to maintain his glamour. The last thing he wants is the Crown Prince of the daemons to know of his run in with the bloodsucker.

“I’m fine, thank you for the concern,” Lance exhales and looks down at his empty glass. His eyes feel rather heavy and he leans back against the couch, his fingers curling inwards as he attempts to maintain the glamour under Lotor’s watchful gaze.

Perhaps it’s the alcohol, perhaps it’s his overwhelming curiosity, but Lance doesn’t think twice before asking the question that’s been weighing heavily on his mind since the prince had named him his ‘compensation’.

“Why do you wish to court me?”

Lotor tilts his head.

"I find you charming," he states matter-of-factly. "You're sharp enough to have climbed your way through the fae ranks and maintain a position at the queen's side, despite your lack of noble blood," Lotor's gaze flickers to the markings on Lance's skin.

They were that of common folk, and even if he managed to climb to the highest rank, everyone would know where Lance had started.

"Those are two qualities I look for in a partner. The fact that I find you more attractive than even Queen Allura is but a perk- don't tell her I said that, though," Lotor adds with a smirk, casually tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.

"That is why I wish to court you, and that is why it bothers me to see you in pain in my presence. I should like you to use this time we have together to rest, please. I'm... Concerned," Lotor admits.

Lance fidgets uncomfortably and looks again at his empty glass, willing it to fill. Sadly that kind of magic simply isn’t one he possesses. He flicks his gaze to Lotor and exhales.

“If you want this meeting to continue, then you can’t tell Allura I showed you,” he stipulates, fingers twitching anxiously.

"Yes, of course," Lotor promises.

Lance lowers his hand from his neck and as he does, the glamour vanishes with a spark of colors. In its wake, it reveals a pale complexion on his typical russet skin, and the vampire bites are clearly visible. His cheeks burn with heat and he can’t summon the energy to look at Lotor.

He doesn’t think he could stomach his disgust. Certainly, Lotor would have no interest in him now.

Not that Lance wanted his interest.

Obviously.

Lotor’s gaze feels like hot coals on his skin as he takes in Lance’s appearance. Lance can tell when the prince notices the bite marks. The silence between them stretches for what feels like a millennia.

Wordlessly, Lotor snaps his fingers and smiles grimly as both of their glasses are refilled instantaneously. 

"That looks fresh," Lotor breaks the silence and purses his lips. "What happened?"

Lance looks down and is grateful to be distracted by a full glass. He sucks in a breath as Lotor speaks and takes a small sip of the drink. 

"It's not something-" he starts, shame filling his chest to the brim. The wound might hurt, but the worst part of it all was the attack of his sense of self. He hadn't defended himself, regardless of his reasons.

He should've done better. 

"I believe it's fairly clear what happened," he says in a tired voice before pursing his lips. "I was aiding a human, and the vampire chasing him wasn't too happy about that."

Lance sets his glass down and looks up at the prince. Lotor meets his gaze unblinkingly as if assessing the sincerity of his statement. 

"I see," Lotor says slowly, eyes zeroing on Lance's neck. "May I...?" He asks, gesturing to the wound.

"I might have something that can help."

Lance bristles at the eyes on his neck, and he immediately wishes to hide behind his glamour- not that he has the energy to sustain it. He focuses his attention on Lotor as the daemon extends a hand towards his neck.

It feels dangerous, having a daemon so close, yet Lance doesn't pull away and he offers a small nod, signaling his consent. 

Skilled fae found ways to gain protection from those who would hurt them, as they can't be expected to defend themselves well against a direct attack. That's why his queen had initially agreed to Lotor's olive branch. While not particularly strong, Lance’s people are smart enough to jump at any further means of protection. 

Lance wonders what kind of aid this daemon is offering him. Would it be smart to accept his help? Was it better not to? Daemons were known for their tricky deals, after all.

Lance wants to have faith in the sincerity of Lotor's words, despite how daemons rarely speak the truth.

"And what kind of help is it?" He asks, meeting Lotor’s gaze.

Lotor stands up and turns around to face him. Lance starts to have second thoughts about Lotor being so close to him- Allura might trust the daemon, but that doesn’t mean that Lance has to. Still, he didn't move away, even as Lotor tilts his head to the side and leans down to peer closely at the wound.

Lance watches Lotor frown at the damage. Is it really that bad? What if it scarred? 

Lotor straightens up and looks down at Lance grimly. 

"I thought to give you a salve to soothe the pain," he says quietly, "but I'm afraid there's nothing in my possession that might heal you. The bite shouldn't look like this," Lotor adds with a frown. 

"Didn't the vampire lave the wound once they were done? It's unheard of for them to let it fester like this."

Lance lifts a hand and touches the swollen skin around the bite.

"It's not like I gave him much of a chance, he-" Lance feels a rush of dizziness hit him. "-if I hadn't left, he might've killed me... And he wasn't exactly gentle about the whole thing." 

Lance crosses his arms and fidgets as Lotor's closeness becomes even less comforting.

“What exactly do you propose I do," he asks, "since you seem to be so much of an expert?"

Lotor raises a brow and steps back. 

"I'm no expert," Lotor says humbly and takes a seat back down on the couch. "I have studied the basics of vampire physiology, though. I admit I'm at a loss at how you managed to escape that vampire, but I'm afraid you'll have to return and seek them out."

Lotor offers Lance a sympathetic grimace at the clear shock on Lance's face.

"You see, the only one who has the power to heal and seal your wound is the vampire who inflicted it."

Lance's vision swirls at that. He slips his arms around his waist, feeling queasy.

"Fuck," he whispers and closes his eyes. He doesn’t like the idea of being that vulnerable, of purposely seeking his attacker out. No, that sounds rather nightmarish to him. 

He looks up at Lotor and wants to be anywhere else. Even if this is the information he needed, it was the last thing he wanted to hear. 

"He'll just kill me,” he whispers. “I couldn't defend myself before. I- I _can't_ go back there."

"I'd go with you if I thought it would help," Lotor states.

Lance can't sense a lie in Lotor's words. And he wishes there was at least one. Then he might not have to return to the vampire. That maybe Lotor could come with him... 

"I'd like nothing more than to accompany you and make sure that you aren't harmed any further. But I'm afraid my presence would be counterproductive," Lotor presses his lips in a thin line. "The vampire isn't likely to comply if there are any other witnesses to his humiliation."

Lotor worries his lip for a brief moment before a vial materializes in his open palm. He offers it to Lance with a wane smile. 

"Though I cannot be there to protect you, I can offer you this. Consider it my first courting gift," Lotor says smoothly. "Rub this on your hands if you feel threatened. The silver in the serum should burn the vampire wherever you touch them."

Lance isn’t particularly fond of the daemon, but this show of kindness certainly doesn’t worsen his opinion of him. He takes the vial and looks at it for a long moment before setting it down in his lap. 

“Thank you,” he says softly and then reaches for his glass, downing the rest of his drink.

Lotor smiles and nods. 

"We... We still have time before I leave," Lance says, his drink burning in his throat. "Is there something else you wanted to talk about?"

"Oh, there are many things I wish to discuss with you," Lotor says, reaching out and boldly grasping Lance's chin. He meets his eyes for a long, intense moment before letting go and standing up.

"But you are tired, and you need to save your strength. Please use the remaining time to rest," Lotor walks over to the door and opens it. 

"I shall be in my study if you need me. I'll accompany you back to your carriage once the hour is up."

He runs his gaze over Lance's form one more time before stepping out and closing the door behind him.

Lance watches Lotor leave with no little confusion.

This is Lotor’s agreed-upon time. This was his chance to, as he’d put it, court him. When this hour is up, the prince is supposed to go through with the plan and ensure that Zarkon agrees to the deal- even at the risk of putting himself in harm’s way.

And yet, Lotor isn’t going to take advantage of the time given him… Because of Lance’s current state? 

Lance feels a rush of something. No words come to mind, but looking at the closed door, he has new respect for the daemon. His eyes grow heavy, as if on cue, and he lies down on the couch, utterly vulnerable as a fever begins to break across his skin. He shivers and takes slow breaths, clutching the vial of silver to his chest. 

Lance sleeps through the remaining time, but when he wakes up, he feels exponentially worse then he had before. His vision blurs as he pushes himself up from the couch. Lotor appears in the doorway and Lance loses his balance.

He must have blacked out for a moment, because the next thing Lance knows, he’s in Lotor’s arms. A wave of nausea rolls through him and it takes all of Lance’s will and energy to stop himself from being sick all over the prince. He clings to Lotor, hating every moment of his weakness.

How is he supposed to garner respect and represent his people when he can’t even fight off a stupid infection?

As Lance fades in and out of consciousness, he hears voices surround him. One voice, that sounds quite a bit like Allura, stands out.

“He’s worsened,” she states, her worry clear to Lance even in his compromised state. He hears something about an arrangement, but before he can hear the details, everything goes black once again.

~♢~

Lance’s head pounds and he doesn’t know how much time has passed. When he manages to finally open his eyes, all he sees is darkness. Has the sun already fallen already? He can taste the sharp tang of iron in the air and lets out a soft noise as he tries to sit up, but a wave of nausea keeps him thoroughly grounded. 

Where is he?

Lance closes his eyes again, and when he forces himself to open them, his vision is clearer, and he can tell that he’s in a forest clearing. He thinks he sees a figure in the distance and he squints, weakly propping himself up with his hands, dirt rubbing into his palms. Lance’s arms shake dangerously as he tries to get a better view of the figure, and they give out a moment later. He can taste dirt in his mouth as he collapses back on the forest floor. 

"...you're really sick, huh," a voice observes. 

The words sound distant, slow, and Lance opens his eyes and pales as he sees someone standing in front of him. His heart pounds in his chest.

Lance knew from his conversation with Lotor that this encounter would happen, but he thought he had more time to prepare himself. He squeezes his hand, but Lotor’s vial of silver is no longer in his grasp.

Had his queen simply left him here?

No. She wouldn’t do that.

…would she?

Panic courses through Lance’s body and makes it difficult to breathe. He tries to calm himself by reasoning that there must be someone hiding, keeping watch from a safe distance, ready to intervene should he need help. He’s important enough for at least half of the queen’s guard- if not for his own contributions, then at least due to his role in satiating Prince Lotor.

Lance really hopes he’s not overestimating his worth. He had no strength and no means of protecting himself from this all too familiar vampire. Still, there’s just something about the vampire’s face that drives Lance to say things that he really shouldn’t say if he wants to leave the clearing alive.

“No thanks to you,” Lance slurs with a scowl.

The vampire frowns and crouches down to inspect him. Lance bristles at the closeness and his scowl deepens. He curls his fingers and grits his teeth.

He doesn’t like this one bit, but what other option does he have? 

"No, this is all _your_ fault," the vampire counters gruffly. "If you hadn't taken what was mine and ran away before I was done, you'd be fine."

He sighs and settles himself down on the ground next to Lance. 

"Whatever. Point is, you need my help. Let's get this over with."

“If you kill me,” Lance mumbles, “my queen will tear you to bits.”

The vampire dismisses his threat with a shrug, and in truth, Lance can’t blame him. He holds no power here, not in his state. He’s entirely at the vampire’s mercy.

If the vampire doesn’t end up killing him, Lance is pretty sure that his own shame will finish the job itself.

“It’s not my fault you can’t catch your own prey,” Lance mumbles sourly as the vampire leans over him.

The vampire doesn’t grace him with a reply, instead focusing on lifting Lance up and pulling him into his lap, placing his hands on Lance’s waist and shoulder to keep him upright and stable. Lance wants to fight against being manhandled like this, but he doesn’t have the energy to even properly protest. Not when his own body is already starting to feel a modicum of comfort from his mere proximity to the vampire.

"I dunno, I caught you pretty easily," the vampire mumbles with a smirk before tilting his head and laving at the wound on Lance’s neck. 

Lance lets out an audible whimper as he feels a wave of numbness runs across his skin. For reasons still unknown, the vampire is actually helping him. And whatever he’s doing, it really does seem to work.

The licking stops and Lance wonders if the process is over. His eyes widen, however, as he suddenly feels the vampire’s fang embedded in his neck. Apparently, the numbness wasn’t as absolute as Lance had thought. His breath hitches as the sharp pain runs through his body. 

Lance wants to scream and run, but the familiar feeling of complacency sweeps over him and he submits. The moment he does, the pain disappears completely and is immediately followed by wave after wave of overwhelming pleasure. 

The vampire hums encouragingly and groans as he continues to drink. For someone who had writhed on the ground in pain after the last time he’d fed on Lance’s blood, Lance can’t fathom why the vampire had agreed to drink from him again. Was the pleasure really worth the pain?

After the vampire takes one final gulp, he carefully extracts his fangs and smooths over the wound with his tongue. He pauses and pulls away before looking down almost uncertainly at Lance. 

"...are you feeling better?" He asks awkwardly.

As before, the effect of the venom is filtered out from Lance's system much faster than it would in a human, but Lance isn't inclined to pull away. He blinks sluggishly at the question and manages a nod.

He hasn’t undergone an instantaneous recovery, but he already feels his fever breaking and clarity clearing through his foggy mind. There’s a sense of calm and comfort that hadn’t been there before, too.

Lance curls his legs closer to himself, leaning into the vampire even as his mind protests. His body doesn't want to pull away.

Lance blinks, and in the corner of his eye, he can see a group of fae hidden in the trees.

Oh. So he hadn’t been abandoned, after all.

"Uhh," he breaks the silence and clears his throat. Looking up at the vampire, Lance awkwardly he offers his hand.

"I'm Lance,” he introduces himself with a touch of friendliness. The vampire did just save his life.

"I'm Keith," the vampire replies, blinking at the offered hand before carefully lowering his hand from Lance's shoulder to clasp it. 

Lance takes the opportunity to inspect Keith’s hand. It was rough and calloused, and his nails were caked with dirt and grime. Utterly unappealing. And yet, Lance doesn't feel that instinctive need to pull away.

"Thanks for not killing me."

Keith’s eyes widen at Lance’s words before cautiously offering a small smile. 

"You're welcome. But for the record, I don't make a habit of killing my prey. Especially not the pretty ones."

Lance flushes and feels a twisting feeling in his gut as he catches sight of Keith's smile. There was something so delectable about it. About him.

“Well, that's- that's good,” Lance huff then shifts uncomfortably, remembering that he’s still in Keith's lap. 

He releases Keith’s hand and slowly climbs to his feet, Keith following suit. 

"Uh, well, it hasn't been a pleasure meeting you," Lance starts, still a bit shaky on his feet, but standing nonetheless. "Let's not make a habit of meeting each other in dark corners, yeah?" He adds and offers a smile.

Surely this will be the end of it, right? 

By the contemplative look on Keith’s face, Lance suddenly isn’t sure. 

Keith looks at him silently for a long minute before huffing.

"You're a fool if you think we won't see each other again," Keith shrugs and rolls his eyes. "Whatever. Your people are waiting for you," Keith nods at the trees.

Lance scowls, mimicking Keith’s eye roll and brushes the dirt off his shirt.

"You're a fool if you think I'd want to see you again,” he haughtily counters and turns to go. He moved too quickly, though, and a rush of dizziness rushes through his system. Lance stumbles and Keith moves quickly, catching him before he can fall to the ground. 

Lance’s cheeks flush as he tries not to look at Keith. 

"I'll be going now,” he croaks and moves away towards the fae in the trees. Keith’s strong scent lingers on his skin.

"Yeah, you do that," Keith calls after him, his smirk clear in his voice.

Once Lance walks into the trees he looks over his shoulder, catching sight of Keith, who was still intently watching him. He quickly looks away and swallows thickly.

He won't admit it, but Lance thinks Keith might be right.

They’ll be seeing each other again.

~♢~

Lance knows that he should be using his time to study with Coran and recover from his experience with Keith. The final agreements are close approaching and Lotor will be expecting him at their next meeting.

But really, Lance just wants to spend time with his human. 

He was such a sweet human, too. Not only was Tsuyoshi an amazing cook, but he just seemed to ooze kindness. It was something Lance couldn’t help but admire. Lance has been referring to him by a nickname, Hunk, which meant offering the human a degree of agency that was usually unheard of in fae society.

But what can Lance say? He wants his human to be happy.

"Hunk," he says softly, tilting his head as he adjusts the ribbon in Tsuyoshi’s hair, "be back by sunup tomorrow, alright? I want you only to bring what you can carry, no straining yourself. Promise?"

Tsuyoshi gives a nervous nod.

“Good,” Lance says approvingly and pats the human’s cheek with a smile. "See you soon," he waves as Tsuyoshi leaves for his trip to the human territories.

Lance knows he’ll be back.

The rustling sound of leaves makes Lance jump as he walks back towards the palace. He squints in the fading sun; he had given Tsuyoshi enough time to make it to his territory before any foul creatures appeared, but perhaps he hadn't given himself enough time.

Lance turns to face the sound, hands curling into fists in mock preparation for a fight. He swallows thickly as fear makes his body tremble.

He hears a growl and suddenly Keith tears through the bushes. Lance doesn’t have enough time to even think about hightailing it towards fae territory before Keith rushes forward and grabs him. They tumble to the ground by the force of Keith’s sprint. He's quick to straddle Lance's hips and pins his shoulders to the forest floor without preamble.

"I need it," Keith demands hoarsely. He doesn’t outright state what it is he needs, but Lance is pretty sure he knows what the vampire is referring to. Keith’s irises are blown wide and dilated to the point that Lance only saw black. Desire and desperation roll off Keith in waves.

The vampire needed to feed.

Lance yells and tries to shake Keith off of him. He feels foolish for having lowered his guard. He kicks his legs but hits nothing.

Lance’s heart pounds in his chest and he thinks, this is it. This isn’t a normal vampire hunger. He's going to die. 

He squeezes his eyes shut, hoping that Keith will end him with as little pain as possible. But as he feels Keith shift his weight on top of him, he doesn’t lean down to bite at his throat.

Instead, Keith rolls off of him and Lance’s eyes flash open in shock.

"Please," Keith whispers and meets Lance's eyes.

Lance pushes himself up and pulls his knees to his chest, glaring daggers at Keith.

"No. Fuck you!" He says, still too shaken to even climb to his feet. He doesn’t want to give Keith what he clearly desires after having scared him like that.

"I'm just a walking blood bag to you, so screw you," he huffs.

Lance can see Keith gritting his teeth, retaining what little self-control he still possessed. He shouldn’t be testing him like this, but Lance is hardly going to offer himself to Keith. Not when he’s so unstable. 

"I'm in pain," Keith snaps. "What does it matter how I see you? Do you want me to proclaim my undying love to you?" Keith barks, but his anger passes as soon as it comes, leaving him with a tired and needy expression. He shakes his head.

"I helped you when you were hurting. You owe me."

Lance glowers and purses his lips.

"No, you were paying me back for attacking me,” he huffs, but he can’t stop himself from feeling just a tad sympathetic. Keith was clearly suffering.

…which could be used to his advantage.

Lance contemplated the pitiful picture Keith makes for a moment longer before shifting to his knees and inches closer to the vampire.

“So seeing how we’re even, why should I help you? What's in it for me?" He crosses his arms.

Keith narrows his eyes and hisses.

"How about I don't tear your throat out when I'm done?"

Lance glares at the vampire and finally finds the strength to stand up.

"Nope, you can’t just do what you want," he smirks. “And if you wanna keep having this," he motions to himself, tilting his head with a smile, "then we’re going to have to make a deal. What's in it for me?" He repeats.

Baring his teeth, Keith jumps to his feet- which was apparently a bad decision, because Keith immediately stumbles and crumples to his knees, panting heavily. Not unlike the first time he drank Lance's blood. 

"Fine," Keith gasps, digging his fingers into the dirt and looking up with a glare. "What the fuck do you want from me?"

Lance gives it some thought. He doesn't want to waste this moment of power. He taps his foot, moving the dry earth underneath his shoe as he considers his options.

"Ah, how about this," he says with a sly grin. "You'll be my protector! When I call you, you’ll come," Lance elaborates, leaning down, dangerously close to the vampire.

"And in exchange, you’ll get to drink my blood whenever you want. Does that sound fair?"

Keith nods, the desperate look on his face indicating that he’ll agree to just about anything to have a taste of Lance’s fae blood again. He wets his lips and clears his throat.

"Yes, sure, whatever, I promise."

"Uhuhuh," Lance says, wagging his finger. "I may not know much about vampires, but you clearly don’t know how fae operate, either. Give me your name. Your real one," he adds, knowing the moment ‘Keith’ shared his name, that it wasn't the one that would give Lance power over him.

"Once you give me your name, we can make this deal,” Lance repeats, seeing Keith’s vacant expression. Poor guy.

Keith blinks.

"...how do I know you won't make me do other things?" Keith narrows his eyes after he gives it a moment of thought. "You could compel me to betray my coven with that kind of power."

"Oh, please, I don't care about that,” Lance brushes off the accusation with a wave and a roll of his eyes. “Sure, I could tell you to do that, but you could theoretically drink me dry- so we're both playing a dangerous game, are we not?" He counters and raises a brow.

Keith purses his lips. “No, I couldn’t do that. I'd be off you the moment you say so," he says gruffly.

Lance huffs his impatience. He thinks he might just walk away, or maybe push the vampire down- he hasn’t decided. But Keith lets out a cry of pain that shakes Lance to his core.

"What’s your name?" He asks again, urgency tinging his tone. Is Keith dying?

Even if he is, why should he care?

"Akira," Keith grits out, and Lance recognizes the name for what it is. He smiles, relieved, and leans forward to cup Keith's dirt-stained cheeks.

“So very nice to officially meet you, Akira," Lance hums and kisses the vampire’s brow. “It's a deal," he says softly and tilts his head in silent offering.

He's terrified, yes, but fae never backs down from a deal.

Keith shudders and moans as he wraps his arms around Lance's frame. He noses Lance’s neck and inhaling his scent before making quick work of numbing the skin and sinking his fangs into Lance’s throat.

Lance hears Keith moan as he drinks. His own breath hitches as he feels the prick of the bite before the numbness takes over. He slips his arms around Keith and tries to get comfortable as the vampire greedily drinks his fill.

Familiar bliss courses through Lance’s body and he purrs with pleasure at the feeling, his fingers running through Keith's dark hair. Who knew that being willingly bitten by a vampire could be so... Arousing?

Eventually, Keith extracts his fangs and smooths over the puncture wounds with his tongue. But instead of pulling away once he’s done, as before, Keith presses his lips to the column of Lance's neck in appreciation. Lance shivers and Keith kisses a trail up to his chin and nuzzles him before pulling away.

Lance frowns and observes Keith with narrowed eyes before pushing himself up unsteadily onto his feet.

"Satiated now, _Akira_?" He asks as he wipes the dirt and dust from his attire.

Keith stands up as well, eyes zeroing in on Lance's legs as if waiting for them to buckle. He looks up at the use of his name and scowls. 

"My name is Keith," he huffs and folds his arms. "But yeah. Thanks... I guess."

Lance rolls his eyes.

“Fine, _Keith_. And you ‘guess’?" He laughs, clapping Keith on the shoulder. “Oh, come now, I'm so much better than an 'I guess' if you were crawling on your knees for me, huh?" He teases.

Keith's cheeks darken with his newly acquired blood and he mutters under his breath, yanking his shoulder out of Lance's grasp. Lance knows he’s right, though. Keith would've followed him anywhere just for another taste. 

"Hm, I stand corrected," Keith straightens and turns around to look at Lance, meeting his eyes with a smirk. 

Keith takes Lance's hand and turns it over in his grip, exposing the vulnerable underside. He brings Lance's wrist to his lips and kisses it, brushing his fangs over the pulse without piercing the skin.

"You're ex- uh, fuck, what's the word...Oh! Exquisite!"

Lance’s brow furrows in confusion before it clicks. Keith is attempting to flirt with him.

He barks out a laugh and suppresses the shiver that runs through him as Keith's lips brush his wrist.

“That’s the best you got, vampire?" Lance asks and slips his hand out of Keith’s grasp and across Keith's cheek. 

"If I'm exquisite," he intones, "then you're positively gorgeous. Even with that unkempt hair," Lance can’t help but add, even when he’s showing Keith how to properly flirt.

"Now, darling, it's time we part ways,” he says before patting Keith's cheek and attempting to pull away.

"What's wrong with my hair?” Keith frowns and grabs Lance’s wrist again with a deep flush. “Wait. Are you saying that you like me?"

Lance bites back an amused smile. It was rather adorable how easily flustered Keith got. He wonders how much more he can get away with.

"I'm saying that if you wanted to ravage me, in a different way, I wouldn’t be too opposed,” Lance hums as he tries to extract his wrist from Keith’s grasp. “Sadly, though, I’m already in the throes of something, so..."

Lance takes advantage of Keith’s surprise and pulls his wrist out of the vampire’s hand.

"Better luck next time, hm?"

Keith blinks and Lance turns to leave with a wink.

"What, do you have some other vampire you've bonded yourself to?" Keith yells after him, to which Lance can only laugh.

Keith had gotten what he’d wanted, but Lance had gotten what he needed- protection.

They’ll see each other again soon enough. 

~♢~

Lance sighs and looks at his nails as Keith takes yet another sip of his blood.

A few weeks have passed since they’d made their deal, and while Keith’s venom secretion always felt good, the novelty has already started to fade. 

"Can you, I dunno, hurry it up," Lance complains. "I've got somewhere to be." 

Lotor was taking him on their third date that evening, and he was being particularly coy about the location. Lance doesn’t like surprises- he needs to know what to wear. Though even if he does wear a casual tunic to a ball, it probably won’t be all that bad. Lotor always manages to make him feel pretty, regardless of what he’s wearing.

Lance thinks Keith must be displeased with him, what with the way Keith tightens his hold and the low growl coming from the back of his throat. Lance catches Keith rolling his eyes as he pulls away and laps at the marks, applying perhaps more pressure than strictly necessary.

He shivers slightly at the feeling. Despite the repetitiveness, Lance can’t deny that his rendezvous with Keith always left him feeling good.

"Oh yeah?" Keith raises a brow and lowers his hands from Lance's waist to cup him from behind, squeezing the supple flesh.

"That's a shame," Keith murmurs against the column of Lance's throat, pausing to leave a very different mark from the one he’d made before. "I guess I'll just give you your gift when you aren't so damn busy."

Lance immediately purrs his approval, his interest immediately piqued at the mention of a gift.

Sure, he’s being courted by Lotor, but having Keith's hands all over him is hard to resist. _Keith_ is hard to resist.

“Gift? What kind of gift?" Lance asks, tilting his head back and panting softly as Keith sucks his mark.

Seemingly encouraged by Lance's soft sounds of approval, Keith leans forward and pushes Lance off his lap and onto the ground, quick to follow and trap him between his limbs. Thoughts of protest disappear as Keith straddles Lance’s waist and marks more of his skin.

Keith lowers himself on top of Lance, pressing their bodies flush together while keeping most of his weight off him. Latching onto the other side of Lance's neck, Keith rolls his hips and groans. They both shiver. 

"Does it matter?" Keith mutters, moving his arm from where it was resting next to Lance's head to Lance's stomach, delving under the fabric to feel warm, soft skin. "You don't have the time for it."

Lance's stomach does a little flip as Keith brushes his rough fingers against his skin.

"Hey, no, you can't just say that and then not give it to me,” he says huffily, half-heartedly slapping at Keith’s hands. "What did you get me?" He asks, eyes bright with curiosity and greed. He pushes up on his elbows and brushes his lips against Keith's.

“Tell me, _Akira_."

As soon as Lance speaks Keith’s real name, Keith scowls and pulls back, sitting on his haunches as he rummages through his pocket. Keith might not like the power Lance holds over him, but Lance won’t shy away from using it.

Keith’s scowl disappears and his expression turns into one of shyness as he carefully pulls his gift out. It's small enough to be hidden in its entirety in Keith's closed hand.

Lance senses that this gift, whatever it is, means something to the vampire.

"I, uh, I made this for you," Keith tightens his grip around the object, worry etched in his brow. "It's- it's nothing fancy, just a trinket, really, but I- I want you to have it."

Keith takes Lance's wrist and drops the gifts in his open palm. 

"It's an amulet," he explains with a touch of self-consciousness. 

Lance mirrors Keith’s nervousness as he peers down at the amulet. Lance had briefly thought that Keith was joking, that he'd just pull lint from his pocket and say that's that. It wasn't as though their agreement was anything more than surface value flirtation and blood.

Lance hadn’t expected a gift. Which is why it meant so much.

"My alpha keeps a small library in his room, and I saw this symbol on the cover of a book about fae. It looked pretty and reminded me of you, so I tried to copy it. I hope," Keith looks up and offers Lance a hesitant smile. "I hope you like it." 

Lance watches Keith shift and squirm and all he can think about is how cute the vampire looks.

He finally tears his eyes from Keith and looks down at the amulet.

Keith wasn't wrong, it really was beautiful. The symbol consisted of two swans arched and intertwined in a dance, with a target in the center. Some of the edges were neatly done, the divots of wood smooth and textured. Others cut deeper, mistakes evident in the nicks and crannies of the piece. Yet it was beautiful. And it meant something.

Lance isn’t sure if Keith knew that this was the symbol of protection and that bestowing it upon Lance was a declaration of sorts. Granted, it needed to be blessed by a fae elder, but all the same, it was incredibly sweet.

He curls his fingers around the gift and looks up at Keith, noting his nervous expression. Lance pulls the amulet to his chest before pulling Keith forward and planting a kiss on his lips.

"Thank you,” he whispers against Keith’s lips. "I love it." Lance runs his free hand through Keith's hair and smiles.

"It's beautiful."

Keith mimics his smile, clearly relieved, and Lance can’t help but admire that wide grin, sharp incisors, and all. 

"I- good," Keith mumbles. He wraps his arms around Lance's middle and nuzzles the side of his neck. "You're welcome. I'm glad you like it."

Lance nods. He lets out a sharp exhale as Keith nuzzles his neck, his skin still sensitive from the feeding and marking.

“Now,” he clears his throat, pulling back and looking at Keith. It was becoming harder and harder for Lance to leave Keith after these quaint meetups. “I really do need to get going.”

Lance pats Keith’s cheek and climbs to his feet. He’s a bit unsteady, but he flashes Keith a grin before gracefully bowing.

“Till next time, Akira,” Lance straightens and pivots, turning to return to fae territory.

He tries not to think about the way his stomach twists at the thought of leaving Keith, or dwell on the amulet tucked in his palm.

Lance wishes he could hold the hands that carved it.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone! Thank you for reading the first chapter of our supernatural fantasy fun! Fae, Vampires, Daemons, Oh my! This is our third published collaboration and we had a lot of fun making it and putting it all together. We hope you stay tuned for parts 2 and 3 and subscribe for monthly updates! If you'd like to read our previous collaborations, you can find them using the following links:
> 
> Roue de la Fortune: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1622230
> 
> darling, this is a prison of our own making: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24949951/chapters/60391153
> 
> Our joint social: https://twitter.com/hannadory1
> 
> If you can spare a moment, please let us know your thoughts and impressions in the comments section below. Nothing makes us happier ;)


End file.
